Seizing Destiny
by quill.is.mightier
Summary: Lily and James had a great and tragic destiny to fulfill. How did they go from being ever at odds to facing the future together? On a Quidditch Pitch at midnight, the truth comes out. Rated T for one bad word


A/N This story was originally on an old account at . I decided to edit it and post it here. It's corny, so don't judge. Oh, and _please_ review! Thanks.

"You want to know _exactly_ why I don't like you, Potter? Fine! I hate that you make me yell so much. I hate how- how you make me feel like a prude! I'm not a prude. I enjoy a good prank! I really do! But you make me sick every time I'm near you. My stomach clenches and I want to hex you! I hate-" Her loud, passionate words were cut off by an unexpected, loud, passionate kiss. Sensations she could not for the life of her define filled Lily as her eyelids flitted shut without her consent. She had never been kissed before in her whole life, and here she was on the Quidditch Pitch at midnight sucking face with the boy she liked least. Well...the boy she used to like least. Now she tolerated him well enough- well enough to snog the life out of, apparently.

They had been meaning to do some decorating after the prefect meeting. So, they had come to the Quidditch Pitch, which was to be the site of the newly instated Homecoming party to take place the next day. The two Head Students had decided the other prefects were unequal to the task of decorating for the momentous occasion and so the burden had fallen to them. Unfortunately, they had gotten little done before they started horsing around on the Pitch, summoning things to throw at each other.

Then, after a breathless laugh, James had carelessly uttered the words that had triggered the whole argument.

"Merlin, you're amazing," he had said, breathless. Lily had frozen and told him not to be silly, ever wary of his "womanizing streak". This had naturally caused James to defend himself and the sincerity of his words, though he had previously been pursuing a "friends only" course with Lily. _If you're already wet, you might as well go swimming_, were his deterministic thoughts.

Thoughts of how the event had come to past scattered, and she found herself without the will to push him away. Surprisingly, there was gentleness evident in the meeting of lips. His nature, to be passionate in every aspect of life, would have led her to believe his kisses would be, well, rougher and more demanding. What did she know, though? His calloused but warm hand cradled her face for an instant.

"You want to know why I love you, Lily?" he asked rhetorically when he pulled away. His forehead was resting on hers, and his ragged breathing and husky voice gave her pause, rendering her unable to make a scathing reply or deliver a stinging slap. Her modus operandi failing her, she simply listened with eyes wide open as he changed her life.

The words came out a whisper, though the intensity in them had the force of a shout. "I love you for the same reasons you hate me. I love you because you yell at me when I do stupid shit. I love how you make me feel like a jerk sometimes. I love that you make my stomach clench whenever you're around! Can't you see? That's love!"

"Don't- don't be stupid. You're seventeen! You can't be in love!" The words, meant to be spoken with conviction came out, much to her dismay, sounding more like a plea for reassurance. Assurance for what- the fact that he loved her? Oh fuck. His response to her shaky statement was a laugh, loud and heartbreaking. She felt his forehead slowly leave hers. The wind beat coldly against the exposed skin.

"That's what I used to think, doll. But when I saw you step off the train in first year and hex an upperclassman for torturing little Gabby, I became enlightened." His hand pulled away from hers torturously slowly, and then everything was snapped into slow motion. As he turned away from her, his eyes held hers for a long moment before his head followed the path of the rest of his body in turning to face the castle.

As soon as the eye contact was broken, puzzle pieces in her heart, which had been struggling so long through muck and confusion to make their way to each other, finally clicked. Memories raced through her head. She had seen such an unexpected, kind side to him lately. Was it possible that the painful feeling in her stomach and chest when he walked by was love, not hate? In that moment of realization, there was no choice. There was no, "What if he didn't really mean it?" or "What if it's too late?" or "What if it doesn't end well?" There was only destiny, and a girl bold enough to seize it.

"Hey, Potter," she called. She walked the two small steps necessary to grab him by the shoulders and swing him around. "I like your style," she said before she kissed him. Destiny had never tasted sweeter.


End file.
